


Castiel Rising

by LoverAwakened



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel in the Bunker, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Human Castiel, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Season 13 AU, buried castiel, the Empty (mentioned), the cabin from season 12 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 03:46:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12203265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoverAwakened/pseuds/LoverAwakened
Summary: Castiel’s eyes shot open and his lips parted in a silent scream. The air was thick and cloying. His throat was extraordinarily dry and as Castiel swallowed in an attempt to get some saliva to coat his aching throat, it burned like the tissue was on fire. Wherever Castiel was, he was laying down and it was incredibly dark. The last thing he remembered was being in The Empty, speaking with the ghost of Castiel Past, Present, Future, and a few other ones not mentioned in Charles Dickens Christmas novella. A sharp pang of hunger viciously tore through Castiel’s stomach and he knew two things: One, he was no longer in The Empty, and two, Castiel was completely and utterly human.





	Castiel Rising

**Author's Note:**

> From a Tumblr prompt from the amazing [the-real-anyrock](http://www.the-real-anyrock.tumblr.com) about how I'd like to see Destiel become canon
> 
>  
> 
> This is also posted under my [Destiel Drabbles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9399137/chapters/21277955) as Chapter 17

Castiel’s eyes shot open and his lips parted in a silent scream. The air was thick and cloying. His throat was extraordinarily dry and as Castiel swallowed in an attempt to get some saliva to coat his aching throat, it burned like the tissue was on fire. Wherever Castiel was, he was laying down and it was incredibly dark. The last thing he remembered was being in The Empty, speaking with the ghost of Castiel Past, Present, Future, and a few other ones not mentioned in Charles Dickens Christmas novella. A sharp pang of hunger viciously tore through Castiel’s stomach and he knew two things: One, he was no longer in The Empty, and two, Castiel was completely and utterly human. 

 

Dean. He needed to find Dean. The ex-angel tried to sit up, only to smack his head hard against something wooden, dirt sprinkling onto his face causing him to cough, much to his burning throat’s protest. Realization struck Castiel like a metal pole in a lightning storm.  _Box. I’m buried in a pine box!_  Fear seeped into the ex-angel's every pore as he thrashed in the enclosed space. Castiel’s mind told him to calm down and be rational, but his newly human body wasn’t listening as his heart thudded against his ribcage, lungs rapidly and shallowly taking in what little oxygen was in his makeshift coffin. 

 

With all the strength he could muster, which wasn’t much, Castiel slammed his fists into the top of the pine box. Over and over and over again until the skin on his knuckles were scraped raw and bleeding. Dirt slowly began to pour into his tomb. Castiel took a deep breath and held it, giving one last hard punch to the top of the box. The wood splintered apart. Castiel clawed through the layers of loosely packed dirt on top of his grave -he must not have been gone from Earth for very long then- as his lungs burned furiously from his held breath, screaming with the need for fresh oxygen. 

 

He could feel the heat of the sun on his skin as his fist burst through the surface. Shakily, Castiel used the remaining strength in his muscles to pull his body from the grave, collapsing on the ground. His eyes remained closed as he greedily pulled lungfuls of fresh air into his newly human and very much aching body.  _Dean._  Blinking slowly against the bright sting of the sun’s light, Castiel took in his surroundings. Beautiful trees and green grass. Serene, blue lake. Castiel’s body protested as the ex-angel turned to see a cabin behind him.  _The cabin._  They buried him at the cabin. Why didn’t they take his body back to the bunker and bury him there? The thought momentarily stung. He needed to get back to the bunker. To Dean. Memories of the last time Castiel was human came to him unbidden making him shiver. Castiel pushed those terrible thoughts of Dean kicking him out of the bunker to the back of his mind and started walking. 

 

He kept walking towards Lebanon, Kansas until his feet blistered and his very bones ached. A few times Castiel was able to hitch a short ride from strangers not afraid to take a filthy, sweat and dirt-covered man in shambles. When he wasn’t riding in cars with strangers he was walking. 

 

Along the walk, Castiel had ditched the tie and the trenchcoat. Eventually, he ditched the suit jacket as well, the sun and the heat too much for him to be wearing so many layers while walking across country. He walked and he walked. Days turned into nights and back into days until finally, he was on the doorstep of the bunker; hair dirty and wild, his once pristine white buttondown dirty and sweat-soaked; the first couple buttons were undone, shirt untucked, and sleeves rolled to his elbows. 

 

In all of his existence, Castiel could not remember a time when he was so nervous. Licking his dry, chapped lips, Castiel reached for the door handle. As he descended the metal staircase, he saw the Winchester sitting alone at the table, empty whiskey bottles littering the space. He was unkempt and it looked like he hadn’t slept in weeks. Dean looked up at him, eyes wide and mouth gaping. The silence was deafening. Finally, Castiel broke the silence. 

 

“You buried me,” he mumbled. 

 

Dean hadn’t moved a muscle since Castiel entered the bunker, rooted in place, face still frozen in shock. 

 

“I want to apologize, Dean,” he began, locking onto the wide green eyes of the older Winchester, “I should never have left you in your grave after I pulled you from the Pit.” The ex-angel’s eyes drifted downward. “Crawling out of your own grave is a most unpleasant experience and I hope I never have the misfortune of having to do it again.” 

 

“You died. You were dead. I watched you die.” Dean whispered. 

 

A smile tugged at the corner of Castiel’s mouth. “I did. I’m back now. Unfortunately, I'm human, so I’m useless, but I’m alive.” 

 

“You died,” Dean repeated. 

 

“Yes.” Dean stepped forward, anger tinting his rough voice. “Didn’t I tell you never to do that again?!” 

 

Castiel nodded, “Sorry.” 

 

Suddenly he was enveloped in warmth as the hunter wrapped his arms tightly around him. Castiel pulled back to speak, but Dean decided to use that as an opportunity to crash his lips hard against the ex-angel. Castiel let out a  _hmph_  of surprise before melting into his best friend. 

 

The kiss was harsh and desperate; teeth biting and tongues plunging deep into each other's mouths. A warmth spread through Castiel’s chest as Dean bodily lifted him by the backs of the thighs, the ex-angel’s legs immediately wrapping around the hunter’s waist. Never breaking the kiss, Dean walked them over to the table, setting Castiel down on the table top, hands quickly finding their way to Castiel’s dark hair. The ex-angel lost himself in the kiss and he prayed he never had to stop. He was safe and warm. Content. Castiel was finally home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr [LoverAwakened](http://www.lover-awakened.tumblr.com)


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